You Must Maintain Your Charm
by Fiyeraaron
Summary: He's half asleep and confused as anything, but he'll keep talking if she wants.


A/N: Firstly, I wrote this at about 3AM, so if the plot is awful and the spelling, grammar and punctuation sucks, don't blame me, blame my 3AM self. I don't own any of the characters, if I did I wouldn't have any Internet, since I'd be in 1800's France.

Éponine was there; that he was very sure of. She was standing in his room and he had no idea why. He was laid in bed and he didn't have a Tshirt on and his sheets were white when they were usually red. Did he change them? If so, why couldn't he remember doing so? Éponine had this large grin on her face and she was wearing a very bright, long red coat, a similar colour to her lips. She walked closer to him and kneeled on his bed and Enjolras held his breath. Was what he thought was about to happen really going to happen? Oh, now he was confused. But Éponine was crawling towards him, her dark hair falling over her delicate face, so he didn't have time to dwell on braced himself as she straddled his lap and he could barely breath. She leaned close to his face, their lips nearly touching. He could feel her breath on his face and he swears he feels his heart stop in his chest. He tilts his head to the side and-

"My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,"

Enjolras jumps up with a start. His rooms was pitch black besides from the artificial glow of his vibrating phone. He closed his eyes in resignation. Firstly, Éponine was now where to be seen and his bed sheets were definitely red. Secondly, he should have known Grantaire and Courfeyrac would change his ringtone when he saw them messing with it earlier, he would have reprimanded them, but he was in the middle of a speech. He rubbed his eyes, but the music did not stop pouring through the speakers.

"And they're like 'it's better than yours'."

He grabbed his phone in his hand and brought it to his ear, desperately trying to stop the noise. His head was still drowsy and he had a very uncomfortable situation below the sheets, he was going to finish the phone call as soon as he could. Clicking the receiver, he mumbled into the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Enjolras?"

He'd recognise that voice anywhere. Her voice was muffled and she sounded exhausted, but his attention was solely on the call now, his sleep forgotten.

"Éponine? Hi, are you okay?"

"Oh, yes, yes, I'm fine." She sounded okay, he couldn't hear anything in the background and her voice only sounded tired, not afraid or sad.

"Oh, okay. So, uh, did you need anything?" He couldn't help but let his confusion drip into his voice.

"No, well, not really. I just wanted to talk to somebody."

"Okay, anything you'd like to talk about in particular?"

In all honesty, him and Éponine weren't really that close. Sure, they'd shared the odd chat about his beloved revolution and he'd thanked her for her continued support, but they hadn't really spoken in great detail about themselves.

"Well, I'd like to get to know you."

He smiled. "Of course. Go ahead."

Éponine was silent for a moment. "What's your favourite colour?"

He almost chuckled. Of course she wanted to start with the basics. He was about to answer with the obvious answer, but she butted in before he could even open his mouth.

"Wait- wait, forget I said that, it's obviously red."

"Good guess." She giggled on the other side and Enjolras' smile widened. "What about you?"

"I like blue."

"Blue. It suits you."

"Your turn."

"My turn?"

"I'm not asking all the questions."

She sounded very adamant, as though he should already know that they had to interchange between delivering questions.

"If you could be anything in the world, what would you be?"

"Interesting question, Enjolras." He could tell she was smiling coyly. "I'd like to be... A dancer."

"Really?"

"Yes, it's amazing how graceful and majestic they are. It's beautiful."

Now that he thought of it, the profession suited her. She, like a dancer, was quite dainty and moved rhythmically. He could almost imagine her on a stage, she'd look breathtaking.

"I think you'd be a great dancer."

"What about you? What would you like to be?"

"A lawyer."

"No, come on, seriously. If you could be anything, what would it be?"

He hadn't expected that. He'd only ever thought of being a lawyer. He'd always wanted to make a change, to help people who couldn't help themselves. Being a lawyer for the less fortunate was what he found most suited.

"I don't know."

"Really? Well, you should think about it. Weigh out your options, see if being a fancy pants lawyer is really your calling."

He laughed into the phone. She would be the one to insult his career and make him laugh at it.

"Your turn."

She let out a long drawn sigh. "Favourite time of the year."

"Christmas. I love it."

"You only like it because of all the red."

"Guilty as charged."

He found this easy. Talking and teasing each other. If Courfeyrac was here, he'd be telling him they were flirting, but Enjolras knew better. Éponine had a boyfriend. Sure, he was a tool and could most likely win the 'Worst Boyfriend of the Year' award consecutively, but Éponine was faithful. He'd never seen the guy, but he'd heard stories about him and Éponine had let his name slip into conversation occasionally.

"You know, you're actually quite cool to talk to. When you're not being so high strung and untouchable, you're a pretty funny person."

Enjolras smiled. He didn't think himself funny, although he was admittedly trying to make her laugh. She was really bringing this 'funny person' out of him.

"Well, you're not too bad yourself."

"Are you kidding? I'm hilarious." She laughed into the phone.

He chuckled. She was telling the truth, though, he had to give her that.

"Why are you up so late?"

The thought had hit him quickly, and he asked her before he could think about it. He didn't think it was too intrusive, I mean, they were actually getting to know each other, this question passed as that, right?

"Oh, Montparnasse stormed out. I had nobody to talk to."

That was reassuring. Here he was, having fun and talking to her, and now he found out he was her last resort. She was only talking to him because her boyfriend had left. He didn't expect it to hurt him as much as it did.

"Right."

"What are you doing awake?"

"I wasn't. I was asleep."

He knew his voice was coming out clipped and harsh, but he couldn't help it.

"Sorry for waking you up. Are you really tired?"

This was it, this was his way to end the conversation. To go back to sleep and forget about her- oh, wait, no. She was plaguing his dreams too, how great.

"I don't know. Are you?"

"Not really."

He hummed in response. What was he supposed to say? He was scared that if he said anything longer than five syllables he would blurt out something he would regret. Something he didn't mean, like 'I think you're really pretty' or 'I like you'. Stupid things.

"What?"

Oh god. He didn't. No way. He didn't answer her, his face going pale in the darkness.

"What did you just say?"

"What?"

He tried to keep his voice nonchalant, but it wavered and his face went from white to red in a matter of seconds.

"Did you just call me pretty?"

"What? No, that's preposterous."

"No, no, you definitely said 'I think you're really pretty, I like you'."

"I have no memory of that. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Enjolras, you don't have to be embarrassed."

He felt his stomach drop in nervousness.

"I-I don't?"

"No. If I'm going to be completely honest with you, I think you're really handsome too."

He blushed, feeling stupid immediately after. He was not some silly schoolgirl who just got complimented by their crush. But, she though he was handsome and that made him happy and his insides go all fluttery.

"Well, thank you very much."

"It's quite alright."

"Indeed."

The conversation got awkward very fast. He didn't know how to respond in situations like these. Whenever a girl had complimented him in the past, he had quickly turned away and rolled his eyes, muttering something about how they had distracted him from his very important work. However, this was Éponine. The girl he-dare he say it- liked. _Like_ liked. He wasn't going to screw this up by treating her the same way he had all the others, the more insignificant girls.

"I think you're-"

"I like you too, by the way."

His breath hitched in his throat. "What?"

"Would you like to go and get some coffee tomorrow? Well- today. I guess it is kind of tomorrow- today- since it's 2AM. Sorry for waking you up again, I just-"

"I'd love to. I'm kind of embarrassed, actually."

"What, why?"

"Because of course you would say it before me."

Thanks for, you know, reading and stuff. It makes me smile harder than Marius at Enjolras during Building The Barricade.


End file.
